


The Human Condition

by dragonspell



Category: Supernatural RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe - Science Fiction, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-02-04
Updated: 2012-02-04
Packaged: 2017-10-30 14:54:40
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,330
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/332963
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dragonspell/pseuds/dragonspell
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>They found the poor kid on some backwater moon that they'd thought had been deserted.  Jeff, usually skilled at assessment, hadn’t had a clue what he was in for.  He never really saw these kinds of things coming.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Human Condition

**Author's Note:**

> Written for a January 2012 blindfold_spn [prompt](http://blindfold-spn.livejournal.com/7359.html?thread=7678143#t7678143) (Jensen/JDM, touch starvation, desperate sex)

They found the poor kid on some backwater moon that they'd thought had been deserted. Jeff, usually skilled at assessment, hadn’t had a clue what he was in for. He never really saw these kinds of things coming.

There was a fortress on Casmodia, rising up three levels but crumbling where it stood—thus why the military had abandoned it. There was nothing worth keeping either, out here in the asscrack of the galaxy. Nobody worth bothering about, no resources worth protecting. Only a madman would have gone through the mine fields to get to a deserted planet with little hope of getting off but a better chance of getting a face full of high-charged explosives if found out.

Jeff thinks they really should have known better. If there's one thing that he's learned in his couple of tours around the stars, it's that there's _always_ some crazy bastard who's going to do what you least expect when you least expect it—so you should just plan on it happening and then you won't be surprised. Somehow, though, he always manages to end up surprised. Something to do with how crazy space can make some people, he thinks. It's outside of the norm of human behavior.

"Sir!" a lieutenant had shouted and run down the hall to chase Jeff down. Jeff had quirked an eyebrow, wondering what was so damn important. "We just got an energy reading off Casmodia."

"Casmodia's barren," Jeff had said because the 45th battalion had made damn sure of that before they left, launching a couple of nukes into the atmosphere. Even when they were done with a place, the military still didn't like to share.

"I know, sir, but it's there. We've tripled checked the scanners."

Which is how they'd ended up back on Casmodia, launching a full-out assault on a dissident's pitiful attempt to start a war. Jeff commanded the Ascendant, one of the largest warships in the Federation, and taking out the tick that had hoped to leech government secrets from the crumbling fortress had barely made her blink an eye. 

Of course, after they'd taken out the main rail guns and the secondary lasers and blown the control tower, that still left them having to comb through what was left of the fortress on foot just to make sure. The scanners had picked up one human life sign down underneath the rubble and Jeff had gone himself because he wanted to strangle the little pustule that had made him waste the fuel to come back to Casmodia, a place where the nearest outpost was five days away. They'd been nearing the inner planets, too, before they'd found the signal. Jeff could have _used_ the inner planets. He wanted a nice dinner and maybe a walk in a park somewhere where the sunlight wasn't artificial or trying to batter through a half foot of plexi—where it was filtered through an atmosphere. Hell, Jeff wanted to see _clouds_.

The crazed anarchist had been found dead, his body in five different pieces from when they'd toppled the main tower, and Jeff had been disappointed. "Damn it." He'd eyed the body and wondered if modern medicine had found a way to resurrect the dead and mutilated yet because Jeff wanted to kill the fucker again. The first time had been too quick.

When they found the kid, though, Jeff wanted to kill the sick bastard all over again. They'd pulled the kid out of an underground cell—the only reason he'd lived through the explosion—and thrown a jacket over his naked form before they dragged him up into the sunlight, wincing with sympathy and a touch of horror as the poor kid shrank away from the harsh rays of Casmodia's sun. Jeff had felt a stab of pity for the kid who, as near as they could tell, had been trapped down in that dungeon for months if not years and then a tinge of guilt for wanting to kill the kid's captor earlier just because he'd inconvenienced Jeff. The kid had a much better reason than Jeff did to want that psycho dead.

Jeff had promised the kid that he’d be alright now, that he was safe, and then quietly swore when the kid lifted those green eyes to meet his. _Damn_ but he was pretty. Jeff had been certain, right then and there, that the kid had been more than just a prisoner and he’d let loose another curse about the bastard that had caused this whole damn mess. It was a damn good thing that modern medicine couldn’t resurrect the dead. Jeff didn’t think he’d ever be able to stop killing the guy.

Jensen—that’s what he said his name was, Jensen Ackles of Islatar—had told them that he’d been a prisoner of Seratoy del Casta for a long time (it’d been hard to count days, he said, where he’d been kept) and the man had done some things to him but Jensen hadn’t really wanted to talk about it, only mentioning that del Casta had alternated between “liking” him and not before changing the subject. Jeff could understand that. The map of cuts and bruises on Jensen’s body told Jeff all he really needed to know. 

He Jensen put up in one of the diplomat cabins which worked out fine because Jeff hadn’t hosted any diplomats on his ship for years now and had every intention of carrying on this fine tradition. Politicians were always more trouble than they were worth. Jensen, though, had seemed to be little trouble at all. He’d happily eaten everything they’d given him and besides a few odd looks that had creeped out some of the men, he seemed to be harmless enough. Jeff figured that being a little bit creepy was par for the course when you’re locked in a windowless pit for months and if that was the only adverse effect then Jensen was doing great.

After getting the Ascendant back on course for the inner planets, Jeff had apologized to Misha, his strategist, and had rescheduled the next session of their ongoing chess game to tomorrow night. He needed to have a talk with Jensen, find out more about the kid’s background.

Jeff knocked quietly at the door and waited for it to open. As Commander, he had access to every room in the ship whether the occupants liked it or not but it was only polite to allow the allusion of privacy. The door whisked open within seconds and Jeff stepped in. “Jensen?” He walked past the cycling colors of the small waterfall and the glittering crystal lights, through the soothing greens and blues that decorated this particular suite. Jeff had always thought it a little ridiculous to have this kind of luxury on a warship—looking like he commanded a damn cruise line going around the inner eight—but his superior officers just smiled tight lipped and told him to accept it. _“You’re not on a destroyer anymore, Commander. You’re on a top-of-the-line flagship. Adjust accordingly.”_

Jeff had to admit, though, he did like his quarters better on the Ascendant than he had on any ship anywhere, if only for that state-of-the-art sonic shower. It cradled his balls _just so_. Jeff smirked, thinking that the brass didn’t want to hear about his special relationship with his shower. “Jensen?”

Jensen appeared around a potted fern, wearing the borrowed shirt and uniform pants they’d given him. He smiled at Jeff. “Commander,” he said, using the same tone of voice that other men might use to describe an Ulipian pleasure house.

“Thought we could talk,” Jeff replied and took a seat on the plush blue couch that Jensen pointed him towards. “Get to know each other better.” 

Jensen nodded happily and dragged a chair over so that the corner wedged into the couch cushion and Jensen’s knees were only a few inches from Jeff’s. “I’d like that,” he said and caught Jeff’s eyes for a moment, looking for all the galaxy like he was considering eating Jeff alive. Jeff’s breath rushed out before Jensen flushed and dropped his gaze to study the lines of Jeff’s uniform. No wonder a lot of the men felt uncomfortable around Jensen. Jensen stared like he thought you and him were the only people left in the universe.

It was sadly probably true. After being locked up for who knows how long, Jensen might be thinking that being able to spend time with another human being was on par with strolling through the famous water gardens of Alteria. 

A frown teased at Jensen’s mouth as he dropped his eyes to the floor and he twisted his hands in his pants, his body rigid. “Are you okay?” Jeff asked, concerned about the quick change of mood.

“Commander, I…” Jensen licked his lips and then met Jeff’s eyes again and Jeff froze to the spot. Jensen brushed his hand lightly over the back of Jeff’s hand and up to his wrist before yanking it away, his breathing speeding up. Jeff felt a little short of air himself. “I wanted to know if…” Jensen hesitantly touched Jeff again, his fingers more daring this time as they stayed, slipping underneath the cuff of Jeff’s uniform.

“Jensen?” In a heartbeat, Jensen was on top of Jeff, sliding like an eel from the chair to the couch, his legs straddling Jeff’s waist as he draped himself over Jeff’s body like a blanket. His hands griped Jeff’s shoulders and slid downward, like he was trying to make sure that Jeff was solid, as he bowed his head against Jeff’s chest. Warning bells rang in Jeff’s head from the proximity, an instinctive reaction that Jeff let fade when Jensen didn’t immediately go for Jeff’s throat. Jensen moaned softly, his fingers tracing the lines of Jeff’s arms to slip over his chest.

Jeff swallowed. This had officially become uncomfortable for him and he realized that it might not have been fear of Jensen’s intensity that the men had been avoiding. It might have been _desire_ for it. Not a whole lot of opportunities in deep space and if some pretty thing happens to just show you a smile, it’s bad enough, but having that pretty thing all but panting after you? Could hit a guy where he lived. Jeff shifted awkwardly underneath Jensen, relieving the growing pressure in his groin and Jensen whimpered, his hands flying to Jeff’s throat, yanking at the buttons of Jeff’s uniform and Jeff sucked in a harsh breath. He never saw these kinds of things coming. 

As Jensen’s fingers scrambled, trying to strip Jeff down, an idea floated through Jeff’s mind: space-madness, artificially created. _Touch-starved._

Driven back into motion, Jeff caught Jensen’s wrists and pulled him away. “Sweetheart,” he said warningly, his voice a gruff growl, “that’s going to lead somewhere I don’t think you want to go.” Jeff could understand wanting a little human touch. He’d seen enough explorers, shut-in their shuttles for months on end, get a little desperate when in reach of another person again because mankind was at heart a social creature and not meant for the isolation of deep space, but Jeff’s body didn’t understand half measures. If Jensen just wanted a little cuddle, then he needed to keep to certain lines otherwise he’d end up naked and on his back with his legs over Jeff’s shoulders.

Commanding a flagship didn’t leave much spare time for attending to personal needs. Jeff was, as the men would say, about due for a little shore leave. And Jensen wasn’t exactly unattractive.

Jensen whined and ground his hips downward, rubbing his ass against Jeff and Jeff swallowed. “Okay, maybe you do want to go there.”

“Commander,” Jensen whispered, sending a bolt of heat straight into Jeff’s gut. Normally, he didn’t go for all that authority stuff, didn’t get off on it, but if Jensen could keep gasping out that title, all “yes, sir,” and “please, sir,” Jeff thinks he might just develop a taste for it.

While Jeff was busy coming to terms with new kinks, Jensen wasn’t wasting any time. Taking advantage of Jeff’s distraction, the kid—kid, Jesus, now that Jeff had gotten a good look at him, he realized Jensen was nearing thirty and what did that say about Jeff that he still thought of Jensen as young?—yanked at Jeff’s uniform, pulling the sides of Jeff’s dress coat apart, the buttons and zipper no match for Jensen’s determination. The boy wanted _skin_. It made Jeff’s body light up like an inner planet spaceport bar and Jeff grappled with Jensen again, his hands alighting in all sorts of interesting areas before he finally managed to get a hold of Jensen’s wrists again.

“You need to slow down, sugar,” Jeff rasped, the pet name falling off his tongue as easy as water.

Jensen’s growl made Jeff _and_ his dick jump at the same time but for two very different reasons. Jensen struggled, his ass squirming on top of Jeff in a way that was definitely not unpleasant while he yanked his arms out to the side, trying to break Jeff’s hold. When Jeff kept hanging on, he changed tactics, using the position that they were in to flatten himself to Jeff’s chest and nuzzle his nose against Jeff’s neck. “Don’t want to slow down. Can’t slow down.” Jensen’s tongue licked appraisingly over Jeff’s skin, finding just the right spot for Jensen to put his mouth and suck.

Jeff groaned, his head falling back against the couch. One hand dropped to Jensen’s waist and he stroked Jensen’s hair with the other as Jensen set about devouring his throat. “We can, we can—oh fuck that’s good—just cuddle…?” Truthfully, Jeff would die a little if it can to that after they’ve already gone this far, but he knows that he needs to offer Jensen that, to let the kid know that he doesn’t _have_ to do this, that if he’s just looking for a little bit of skin on skin, he can get that without having to supply an orgasm in return. Jeff can be a bastard sometimes but he’s not about to deny a starving man a meal.

Jensen’s hips rolled again, Jeff’s cock slipping between the cheeks of Jensen’s ass, and there was no way that Jeff could misinterpret that. He also couldn’t ignore the way that Jensen’s fingers were flicking over Jeff’s right nipple, pulling Jeff’s shirt from side to side over the bud. “Please, Commander,” Jensen panted in that shiver-inducing voice of his and dragged Jeff’s hand to press against Jensen’s hard cock. It was warm underneath the uniform pants, burning hot, and Jeff didn’t even try to resist curling his hands around the solid bulge. It had been _years_ since Jeff had last palmed another man’s cock and, damn, but he missed it.

“Jeff,” Jeff corrected right before he squeezed Jensen’s cock, making the kid gasp and jerk forward.

“What?” Jensen asked, distracted. His hands were rucking Jeff’s shirt to get at Jeff’s stomach, fingers spreading greedily along the skin.

“If we’re going to do this, call me Jeff.” The last thing Jeff needed was to get all Pavlovian about his title. He’d never be able to stand on the damn bridge with any dignity again.

“Yes, sir, Commander Jeff, sir,” Jensen breathed, teasing despite how he was rocking on top of Jeff, begging for it. Jeff might not have been a master tactician but he knew a losing battle when he saw one. He growled and rolled them, dropping Jensen length-wise on the couch and settling in over top of him. Jensen pushed against Jeff’s shoulder, getting a little space so he could shove Jeff’s shirt all the way to his armpits and Jeff striped the damn thing over his head, tossing it to the floor. Jensen whined in the back of his throat and then his hands were everywhere: skating down Jeff’s back, detailing the lines of his abs, rubbing the muscle of Jeff’s pecs, thumbs flicking at the nipples.

“Fuck,” Jeff swore, feeling like he was caught in a windstorm. He couldn’t keep up with everything that Jensen was doing, like the kid was putting months worth of touch into just a few short minutes. Jensen’s hands would flitter to one part of Jeff’s body, chased by his mouth, then skip to some other random area and back again and Jeff’s nerve endings were pinging all over the damn place. He didn’t even notice that he’d been shoved until his back hit the Meranic rug. “What the—” Jensen cut Jeff off with a hard, desperate kiss that slowly softened the longer it went on. Jensen settled on top of him, his hands burying in Jeff’s hair to hold him still and Jeff just let him, stroking his hands down Jensen’s back to let the kid know that it was okay, that Jeff wasn’t going anywhere and that Jensen could have this.

When Jensen finally let the kiss break, they laid there panting for a few seconds, staring at each other, and Jeff licked his dry lips. “Okay,” he said and pulled Jensen back down to him, swallowing Jensen’s grateful moan. 

The next time Jensen let Jeff come up for air, Jeff had to spare a moment to appreciate just how damn talented the kid was because somehow, he’d managed to not only get Jeff’s pants undone and his cock out (not an easy feet with Federation regulation gear) but he’d gotten his own pants _off_ and after he pulled off his shirt, he was sitting on top of Jeff completely naked. Jeff let his eyes sweep up and down Jensen’s body, taking in the miles of pale skin, the smattering of freckles, the speckled bruises, and the confident way that Jensen met his eyes. Jeff let his lips curl up into a small smile and carefully moved his fingers away from the small bruise on Jensen’s hips. “Why don’t you come back down here, Sweetheart?” he murmured and from the way Jensen lunged at him, Jeff knew he wasn’t going to get any more breaks.

Jensen’s hands skimmed over Jeff’s body, touching, feeling, exploring, and then moved unerringly for Jeff’s cock. Jeff jolted upright as Jensen’s fingers slipped over his hard length and Jensen gave him a sharp nip on the neck for moving before moving his mouth upward to work on a spot just under Jeff’s jaw. “Oh f-uck…” Jeff panted as Jensen wrapped his fingers around Jeff’s dick and gave it a firm stroke. Way, way, _way_ too fucking long. Jeff was either going to _explode_ or he was just going to fucking die, right here on the half a million credit rug. They might even roll him up in it.

Thought evaporated when Jensen rolled his hips in another circle and suddenly it wasn’t just Jensen’s hand that was rubbing Jeff but his dick, too, and it felt so damn good that Jeff’s eyes rolled upward. Jensen jerked them both off with one hand and sooner than Jeff’s pride would have liked, Jeff’s back was arching, lifting both of them off the floor while his orgasm wracked his body.

Jensen whined, writhing against Jeff, and stroked harder, faster, until Jeff’s nerves were starting to get punchy with overstimulation and then Jensen came, his mouth pressing against Jeff’s neck and his spunk joining Jeff’s on Jeff’s belly. Jensen jerked forward once, twice, and then collapsed on top of Jeff in a boneless sprawl.

“Wow…” Jeff panted, staring up at the smooth, domed ceiling. He stroked his hand from the base of Jensen’s neck to the small of his back, petting him like a particularly large cat, repeating the motion when he hit the end. Jensen mumbled something against Jeff’s skin but, for the most part, he seemed down for the count and not inclined to move. It wouldn’t have been bad, either, if Jeff’s back, without the flush of arousal to distract it, hadn’t started reminding him that expensive Meranic rug or not, Jeff was too old to be laying on the floor. He shifted, hoping to smoothly roll Jensen and slide out from underneath him.

Nothing could have prepared him for how the limp little rag doll kitten on top of him suddenly morphed into a grasping octopus, all four of Jensen’s limbs wrapping around Jeff’s and holding him immobile. “What the…” Jeff peered down at where Jensen had wrapped his leg around Jeff’s hip, his knee bending underneath Jeff’s ass, and his ankle locking on the left thigh. Jeff tentatively tested the hold and Jensen moaned piteously.

“Don’t go,” he chanted. “Please don’t go. Don’t go. Please don’t leave me alone. I can’t be alone. I can’t, I can’t, I—”

“Hey, hey, hey,” Jeff said, soothingly, another puzzle piece of the mystery that was Jensen slotting into place. “I’m not going anywhere.” He tucked Jensen’s head underneath his chin—cripes, the kid was _trembling_ —and petted his hair again. Honestly, Jeff had been harboring a vague idea of toddling off to his own quarters to collapse on the bed and sleep the deep, satisfied sleep of the freshly laid but with Jensen clinging to him like a limpet, Jeff didn’t think that was a viable option. For one, it would most likely involve him walking naked through the ship with an equally naked Jensen and while that might be good for some of the crew’s morale, it would be traumatizing for others and majorly undermine Jeff’s ability to be taken seriously and he already had a hard enough time with that.

Jeff chuckled at his own thoughts and Jensen’s death grip loosened as he lifted his head to glance curiously at Jeff. “Ah…” Fuck but the kid’s eyes were green. “I was just thinking that me and floors don’t get along so well any more.” 

Jensen gave Jeff a quick up and down that had Jeff wondering if he had enough left in him for a second round and then Jensen licked his pretty lips. “There’s a bed in the other room,” he said, matter-of-fact about the whole thing and subtly queuing Jeff that Jensen wasn’t willingly going to let him leave for quite a while.

“Sounds great.” A grin broke across Jeff’s face. Yeah. Give him about fifteen more minutes of Jensen sitting on top of him and he’d be ready to go no problem. “We should go try it out.”

Jensen smiled, bright as a supernova and twice as dangerous with the pure sin that twisted the corners. Jeff quietly rounded down his earlier estimate to ten minutes. His dick was already taking a keen interest. When Jensen stood up, Jeff had to lay back and take a moment to appreciate the view. He smirked at how Jensen’s cock was already—or still?—hanging hot and heavy, ready and raring to go. Jensen let him look and then stretched a hand down. “Need a hand up, _Jeff_?” he asked with an impish quirk of his eyebrow, saying Jeff’s name in a low, breathy sigh and Jeff realized that Jensen could probably call him ‘shit for brains’ and Jeff would still be ready to start drooling for him.

Jeff accepted the help up but then used the hold to drag Jensen in close, aligning the man’s body to his own. They were just about the same height. “I’ll give you a ‘hand,’” Jeff growled and smacked Jensen’s ass, liking how Jensen arced forward at the slap, pushing into Jeff.

Jensen shuddered and then Jeff was being dragged into the bedroom to be properly ravished.

Sometime later, Jeff tilted his head and glanced down at where Jensen had wrapped himself around Jeff’s naked body like he was trying to join them together. Jensen sighed and shifted in his sleep, moving even more on top of Jeff, and Jeff grinned. No, Jeff hadn’t had a clue what he was getting into when he’d commanded the Ascendant to reverse its course but damn did he think he was going to enjoy it.

“Misha,” Jeff said, mentally commanding a com channel to open. “You’re in charge.”

“Sir?” Misha sounded faintly amused, like he already knew what Jeff’s problem was but Jeff wasn’t going to give him the satisfaction of saying it out loud.

“Tell me when we hit Teslan.”

“Teslan? Are you sure you can hold out that long?” Misha asked and, yeah, damn it, Jeff could definitely hear the laughter now. “You’re not as young as you used to be, you know.”

“Shut up,” Jeff said good-naturedly and closed the channel. This was why he had a hard time being taken seriously; he was undermined by his own second-in-command.

“He’s right, you know,” Jensen said sleepily, his voice a quiet rasp. He nuzzled against Jeff’s chest.

“You weren’t complaining a few hours ago,” Jeff replied, trying to sound wounded, playing it up. He distinctly remembered Jensen energetically enjoying it when Jeff tried to pound him through the mattress and it was pretty bad when even the guy that Jeff had personally rescued was siding with Misha against him.

Jensen ignored the pretend hurt and threw his leg completely across Jeff’s hips before settling back into his comfortable doze with a sighed, “That’s because I don’t have any.” 

Jeff smiled fondly. “Well, good. Then you can shut up, too.” Jensen’s reply was a soft snore and Jeff let himself relax into the pillows, bringing a hand up to rest on Jensen’s thigh. Teslan was a good five days away during normal flight. With Misha at the helm, it might take closer to a week because he’d want to stop and see that red dwarf at the edge of sector six and that would give Jeff and Jensen plenty of time to get downright sociable. He trailed his fingers up over Jensen’s hip and down to the soft cock that Jensen had nestled trustingly against Jeff’s side. Downright sociable indeed.


End file.
